


Make Me Better

by coloursflyaway



Series: Kingsman Tumblr Prompts [4]
Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Domestic, Established Relationship, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Puppies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-12
Updated: 2015-07-12
Packaged: 2018-04-08 23:44:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4325427
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coloursflyaway/pseuds/coloursflyaway
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For this sweet little prompt:<br/>Eggsy buys Harry a yorkie puppy one year for Christmas a few years after JB has passed on (at a very old age) since Harry, being Arthur, is home alone frequently when Eggsy is off on missions</p>
            </blockquote>





	Make Me Better

She's tiny and has the softest fur in three different shades of brown and lets out a whine when Eggsy gently puts her into the cage. It's got a red bow on top of it, is small, but she won't have to stay inside for more than a couple of minutes anyway.  
"Sorry, little one, but you gotta hold on for a bit in there, okay?", Eggsy mutters, locks the door behind her and tries to ignore her pitiful gaze. "You're a present, you gotta be wrapped. At least a little bit. You know how Harry is, all traditional and shit."

He gets up from his crouching pose, tries to ignore that his left thigh still stings from the last time someone stabbed him; although he tries to not to think about it, it is getting obvious that his body isn't healing that easily anymore. Every stay in the medical wing takes just a little bit longer, every rehabilitation is more work.  
He’s getting old, and the thought is enough to make Eggsy chuckle to himself, a little bitterly

But today, that doesn’t matter, today is Christmas and it's the first day they both have off in more than a month. And he misses days like this, which he can spend together with Harry, curled up on the couch or in bed, the older man’s fingers in his hair, his heart beating steadily under Eggsy’s hand splayed on his chest.  
It’s the only way he can relax, sleep nowadays, after he has found Harry on the side of their bed six weeks ago, clutching at his chest and telling Eggsy to call an ambulance.

It had just been a minor heart attack, and yet… the thought of Harry’s heart stopping makes Eggsy shiver, his stomach dropping. They’ve known each other for fifteen years, have been a couple of twelve of them, and with every passing day, Eggsy can bear the thought of Harry leaving this world before him less.

Like always, it’s Harry who pulls him back from these thoughts to reality, the soft sound of socked feet padding down the stairs.  
“Good morning”, Harry greets, obviously surprised that Eggsy is up already – age and heart attacks be damned, it’s almost always the other way around. “And merry Christmas.”

Eggsy turns around, but stays where he is for a moment, just takes in the sight in front of him, tries to memorise it. Harry is in his robe, the dark red one Eggsy got him for his birthday two years ago, because it reminded him so much of the one Harry used to wear when Eggsy was still in training. His hair is mussed from sleep, still brown, but grey around the temples, the imprint of the pillows on his right cheek.  
Eggsy loves him so much that it feels like he’ll burst any second, like every cell and every atom in his body is trying to grow twice as large to hold all the affection, the adoration he feels for the man in front of him.

“Mornin’, gorgeous”, he replies, crosses the room so he can kiss Harry softly, tasting peppermint on his lips. He stays close to Harry for a bit longer, slides his arms around the older man’s waist and just holds onto him, eyes slipping shut.  
Harry slides a hand into Eggsy’s hair, presses a kiss to his temple; they have never touched as much as they have in those last weeks, not even after they had just gotten together, and sometimes Eggsy wonders if Harry needs it as much as he does.

Eventually, Eggsy steps back with a sigh, returns Harry’s smile and takes his hand, because he can’t quite shake the need to make sure that Harry is still with him. It also makes it easier to pull the other man towards the tree they decorated last night with Daisy, who had insisted on “helping her two old men” out.  
“Merry Christmas”, Eggsy says, and squeezes Harry’s hand; the little puppy yaps as if on cue, and Eggsy watches the other’s eyes go wide.

“Eggsy?”, he asks, and Eggsy can’t help but chuckle, kiss Harry on the cheek and let go of his hand so the other can crouch down and slowly open the door of the cage. As if she was shy, the puppy waits a few seconds before she steps outside, blinking up at Harry.  
“She’s as much a present to me as she is to you, really”, Eggsy comments, watches Harry stroke her fur almost tentatively, and Eggsy understands. She looks so tiny with Harry’s large hand running down her back, so vulnerable after all. “You know that I miss JB as much as you do. An’ I’ll sleep a lot better when I’m on a mission and know that you’ve got at least someone to cuddle with.”

Harry picks the dog up and stands up again, pecks Eggsy’s lips, then says, “I’ll have you know that I’m not half as old as you seem to think me to be.”  
“I know exactly how old you are, you sixty-five year old dork.” But Eggsy smiles, brushes his fingers through the puppy’s fur, then letting his hand settle on Harry’s arm. “I didn’t give her a name yet, so that honour’s all yours.”  
“Are you absolutely sure about that?”, Harry asks, sounding amused but still touched. “You know that I am shit at naming things.”

“That you are.” There is no way around it, it’s the absolute truth. And yet, Eggsy doesn’t care. “Still.”  
Harry doesn’t say anything for a few, long moments, just strokes his fingers through the puppy’s fur, then mutters so softly that Eggsy can barely make it out, “Roxy. I think I’ll name her Roxy.”

Eggsy swallows hard, tries to ignore that the mere name seems to drag him down, makes him want to curl up on the floor, just like he did for night after night, half a year ago.  
Roxy, like the best Lancelot Kingsman had ever seen; Roxy, like the mother of twins, who had tried to finish every mission earlier so she could tuck her two girls into bed at night; Roxy, like his best friend.  
Roxy, like the woman who had sacrificed her own life to stop a man who tried to blow up a train in Paris.

“Yeah. Yeah, I think that’d be a good name. Right, Rox?” Eggsy scratches the puppy behind her ears, watches her lean into the touch. There are tears prickling in the corners of his eyes, and Harry pulls him close, kisses his forehead, his temple.  
“Thank you, my heart”, he mutters, and Eggsy nods, presses closer.  
“Anything for you”, he answers, and he means it, every word with every breath that he takes. “Always.”

**Author's Note:**

> In case you want to say hi, send me a prompt, or tell me something nice, you can find me on Tumblr here:  
> [X](http://www.coloursflyaway.tumblr.com)


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